


Variations on a Theme

by amberlo133



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1368589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberlo133/pseuds/amberlo133
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles involving Nick and Renard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A work in progress aiming to become a collection of drabbles that will help me get over writer's block and a minor obsession with both Grimm and these characters in particular. If you enjoy, feel free to prompt for more :)
> 
> This first one is based on the idea that Adalind uses a sort of homicidal rage spell on Nick and then tells him all the gory details about how Renard sent her to kill his Aunt.

Nick raised the gun once again to point at his Captain's forehead.

"You sent Adalind to poison her. Adalind! She was my only family, she raised me!"

"I had no choice. Nick you're not yourself, you have to calm down."

Renard was on his knees in the quarry where Hank had once shot the Siegbarst. Nick had knocked him out and dragged him to the spot, Adalind's words still ringing in his ears.

"Calm down? After all that you've done? All the secrets you kept?" Hisis heart was pounding and breath came heavily. Dimly he realised it was the first time since his rampaging zombie blackout that he had felt anywhere near like this.

"Nick, its a spell, please, just wait. You'll regret this."

"Regret it? How could I regret killing a royal and a Hexenbiest? I'm a grimm, its what we do." He tried his best to ignore the tiny part of his mind that screamed Renard was right. That his Captain's death, however well deserved would destroy the delicate balance Portland relied upon.

"It's not what you do. You've worked so hard for what we've built here. Don't throw it away on ancient history." He started to rise reaching out but Nick still seethed with rage and used the gun to pistol whip him, throwing him back against the ground. 

"Ancient history?" He screamed, "she died in my arms."

He switched off the safety and took aim, before a British accent cut through the persistent urge to kill, kill, kill.

"What a delightful sight: the royal bastard finally brought to his knees. And by a grimm." The voice paused; "let me savour the moment." Nick turned to see a well dressed man saunter out of the darkness. He sneered at Sean before turning to smile ingratiatingly at Nick gesturing at the scene before him."Please, don't let me stop you, I only came to watch."

"And you are?"

"Prince Victor, I'm so glad to finally meet you, Grimm Burkhardt. And at such an auspicious moment." Nick started to grind out an answer, feeling strangely posessive of his right to torment but Renard interrupted.

"Victor? You were behind this?"

"Oh no, all Adalind I'm afraid, you really never should have trusted her. I'm just here to watch our family tree finally scrubbed clean. He strolled a little closer, focusing completely on his brother. "You will die in the dirt and this little grimm that you tried so hard to protect and keep all to yourself, will be mine." Renard looked from his brother's contemptuous leer to the gun and back again, and all the fight seemed to drain out of him. He slumped back against the ground, head dropping in despair. Even through the haze of anger Nick felt a sliver of sympathy. No one deserved a family like Renard's.

He sighted along the gun once again but some of the anger was starting to drain away and he paused for a moment.

"What are you waiting for grimm? Shoot him. Get rid of this filth so the new order can finally be built." Victor asked eagerly, he was practically drooling at the prospect of the kill.

New world order? Cleanse the family? Was he reading from the psychotic, eugenics buzz word sheet? He gritted his teeth and wrenched his mind away from Renard turning his head towards Victor. 

"You know what? Fuck you."

He focused on all the old memories of Renard as his Captain and the newer of fighting at his side. It felt like his shoulder might dislocate but he tore his gun away from Renard and emptied his clip into Victor's chest. As he shot he strode towards the jerking, falling body of the crown prince so he could look into his shocked face. "He may be a royal, unscrupulous, Machiavellian bastard, but he beats the hell out of you."


	2. The Faces We Wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Captain is caught in an explosion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed the discussion going on in the comments section. I think Renard's intentions are one of the most interesting things about the show. It's completely unclear what his end game might be, whether he simply wants to destroy his family's power base or claim some of it for himself. He should be called out on trying to kill Aunt Marie although I am also not sure how much Nick knows about that yet.
> 
> I think the incident Peya_Luna brought up is also very intriguing. While all Nick's kills so far, have been well justified its clear that he is generally much more willing to kill Wessen than humans. I think his character is getting darker and more violent, as well as stronger. 
> 
> And thanks for reading! I really never expected this to get much attention, its quite a small fandom so far.

Nick surveyed the destruction with a experienced and somewhat satisfied eye. For a week now he and Hank had been pursuing a trio of suspects who had been setting off small bombs in up-market hotels. At first they had assumed a political agenda but it turned out the bombs were just a distraction for theft. To make things worse the case had had been incredibly high profile, right from the beginning, when new channels had immediately suggested terrorist involvement

Thankfully, they were quickly proved wrong and another crucial non-involvement had been the Wessen community. Hank in particular had been overjoyed to catch a case not involving fangs and fur. The body count had also been remarkably low, given the public explosions. The bombs used enough explosives to ensure full evacuation but no more. Nick might have credited the suspects with being less than total idiots had they not managed to blow themselves to pieces less than twenty minutes ago. Apparently, being interrupted by the police while building a bomb was not great for your life expectancy. Even better, the front line of officers had been protected by their SWAT gear, minor injuries only.

Three dead bombers, no other casualties and no Wessen politics or bodies to hide. All in all, he thought, it was a pretty good day.

"Nick! Can I have a minute." He sighed, why was there always something to kill his good mood? Like a clearly stressed out Wessen boss. Renard was pacing and gesturing irritably at a paramedic even as he waved Nick over to an empty side room. Not good. Renard had been in the second wave of officers who had caught some of the blast, his face was scorched up the right side, his coat spattered with blood and streaked with soot.

Nick took a deep breath letting the grimm persona settle and stalked over wondering what the hell was wrong now. Maybe the suspects had been a special sort of Wessen that thrive under explosive conditions, and were even now waiting to re-materialise and slaughter them all. He wouldn't have been surprised.

"Sir? What's the problem?"

"Close the door." Well that was easier said than done, but Nick managed to wedge it a little more towards closed despite the fact it was missing most of its hinges.

"Is there a problem with the suspects?"

"Oh, no. Definitely dead." Well that was a relief. "Unfortunately, the paramedics are being rather insistent about cleaning my," he paused and gestured to his face.

"Yeah, it looks pretty painful." Renard shot him an irritated look.

"Yes. It is. If they start digging out grit I don't think I will be able to," he stopped again, clearly uncomfortable.

"Won't be able to what?" Nick asked in confusion.

"Remain human," he ground out. "Would you mind?"

"Oh! Sure, I guess. I'll just," Nick backed out of the room and went to ransack some unsuspecting paramedic for supplies. He returned a few moments later with a bottle of antiseptic, tweezers, burn salve and some cloths. The Captain was still pacing, staring at his phone as if it had personally offended him. Nick quickly caught his eye and gestured to a chair. If he had to pick gravel out of the face of a Hexenbiest he certainly wasn't going to chase him round the room to do it. Where was Rosalee when you needed her? He suddenly regretted the lack of Wessen in this case.

Renard threw himself into an ancient office chair and Nick laid out his supplies on the desk. He looked from the antiseptic to his stressed Captain in some trepidation, this really wasn't his strong suit.

"You know you would be better off with a professional, right?"

"But would they be better off with me?" Well, he did have a point. As per instructions he reached for the tweezers, aiming to remove the worst of the grit and glass before disinfecting. He leaned against the desk and braced his arm against the chair.

"Ok, hold still." He reached for the largest piece first, a small splinter of what looked like a piece of door frame. The second he settled the tweezers around the outer end, Renard flinched and and his face rippled dislodging Nicks grip. He jerked back slightly, for all his experience with Wessen he had still never been this close to a wogue. Then it dawned on him just how difficult this was going to be and he sighed in exasperation. 

"Sorry."

"This is going to be harder than I thought."

"I'll try to stay, still." Renard paused before the last word, as if that wasn't quite what he meant. 

"Appreciated." Nick went for the splinter again and managed to yank it out quickly, making Renard hiss through his teeth and flinch away. A thin trickle of blood ran from the wound but the odd distended look was gone from the surrounding flesh. 

After five minutes of the same with steadily decreasing sizes of grit Nick was becoming progressively more irritated. He could see areas where the skin was clearly stretched painfully across some tiny piece of rock or glass but no matter what he did he could not find an entry wound. Occasionally with the others he had had to press on the skin around with his fingers to find the edge of a buried piece. This was clearly exactly as painful as it sounded and the Captain's face had rippled unnervingly but his control was excellent.

"I'm making you uncomfortable." Renard twitched like he wanted to leave and Nick grabbed his shoulder. 

"Stay still. Of course I'm uncomfortable, I'm picking glass out of your face. I am impressed how easy you're making it. Anyone else I know would have full-on," he made an an absent-minded claw motion with his free hand, "by now." It occurred to him that he had only see the Captain's other face on a handful of occasions. Nothing like the other Wessen he had met.

"Most find the face of Hexenbiest, rather unpleasant." Nick shuddered slightly remembering, while homing in again with the tweezers. Renard flinched and Nick tried to think of something to take his mind off the pain.

"True. You know Adalind was the first Wessen I ever saw?"

"Really? Not the best introduction."

"No. It's the jaw thing you know? About Hexenbiests? Its like something out of Mummy film. Makes my skin crawl." He suddenly realised he wasn't being all that tactful. "Sorry, I know you must have family," he trailed off.

"Well for someone picking glass out of a Hexenbiest's face you're doing well." The Captain's voice was oddly light and Nick sat back frowning.

"Yeah, but yours is different. No loose jaw, for one. And you glow, like that volcano creature but less intense. Its actually sort of, not terrible?" He cringed internally, Renard looked up clearly shocked. "What?" He was absolutely going to ignore how not smooth that had been, he'd nearly said cool. What was wrong with him today?

"I grew up with other royal children until I was a thirteen. My face, lets say it didn't make me very popular." Well Nick was going to leave that well alone. He carried on treating Renard's face in silence. Unfortunately it didn't seem like the subject of woguing was off the table quite yet. He gave up prevaricating and sat back with a sigh. 

"Is it possible you wogued when the blast happened? Just for a moment?" Renard looked surprised and then frowned.

"I suppose so. My control is good but not perfect. It is possible."

"I need you to do it again." God this was awkward. "Sorry." Renard looked instantly suspicious.

"Why?"

"I think some of the grit is on the surface of your," he waved his hand "other face." The Captain's face cleared and then became distinctly uncomfortable. Between the boatload of royal bastard issues and the natural instinct of Wessen not to vogue in front of grimms Nick wasn't all that surprised.

"What do you think my heritage is suddenly going to get the best of me and try and cut your head off?" Renard smiled slightly.

"Can never be too careful." He took a deep breath and his face shifted. Immediately Nick could see the rest of the glass he had been missing.

"Excellent." He muttered reaching forward again.

"That's a first," muttered the Captain.


End file.
